Ivan

Written for Belle's Inside the Animal's Mind [an unofficial challenge]

I don't like this new home in this glass box with humans walking by. I miss Larry and his mom and dad. I used to sleep with Larry, and he rode me around on his bike. They didn't like that I was breaking things in their house, so they put me in this see-through box. Breaking things wasn't done intentionally; it was because I was playing, and I'm stronger than Larry's dad.

I have room to move around and a metal box they call a TV. Going outside on sunny days and enjoying the smells outside with no humans staring at me is fun, but I'm lonely. My sister died after that long trip from Africa, and I never saw her again once they shoved us in the carrier to come here.

Larry visits and a man talks to me, feeds me, and cleans my house. I play tug-of-war with that male human and always win because I am so strong. It's noisy here, and it never gets totally dark like it was with my mother.

**

I have been here so long that now it is females who come and put my food out. I like them better than the males. The males were frightened of me when I stared and frowned at them.

Sometimes, I paint pictures with pretty colors, such as red, blue, and yellow, my favorite colors. If I don't want to paint, I rip up the paper and shove the tools back.

My name is Ivan; everyone knows my name. The females tell me to stop chewing my fingers. They say, "Ivan, are you lonely? I will sit by you for a while. Please don't chew your fingers," motioning with their hands to take my fingers away from my mouth. Not always, but if it is too noisy or the young humans bang on the glass, I chew my fingers to calm down. It sometimes works. Females are okay.

Groups of humans stand outside the glass and stare at me. Males laugh and make faces. Young males bang on the glass and mock me, staring and yelling, raising their arms, and scratching or pounding their chests. Some stick their tongues out at me, which is funny. Humans are stupid, especially the young males beating their chests. I could tear their arms off.

When Joyce comes, she brings eggs. I love raw eggs. When I get boiled eggs, peeling them is hard, making me angry. Still, I eat them, but I crush the eggshell with my hand, and then Joyce has to sweep it up when she cleans my glass house. Raw eggs I suck out of the shell and are my favorite. I get fruit, too, but Larry's mom started me on eggs as a baby at their house, and they are my favorite food. Joyce watches while I suck the juice out of the shell, and then I hand the entire empty shell to her through the bars.

One time, Joyce was crying, and when she handed me a tissue, I wiped my eyes so she would wipe hers. I love her. Joyce says I am around thirty now and going to a zoo far away. I don't understand that, but maybe there won't be people staring at me, and I can make friends who are like me. I hear them say that change is good, but I also hear the women crying. They are sad I'm leaving, and I'm sad too because I will miss them. I won't miss being in this building where lights stay on all night, and young males pound on my glass. I hope to run and break branches, touch others like me, and groom them.

I wonder if there will be Hornbills and Lovebirds. I remember them in the trees when I was a baby. Maybe my mother will be there. She would be quite old now.

Author Note: The sculpture - at the entrance to Pt Defiance Zoo and Aquarium in memory of Ivan - was given by the Friends of Beloved Ivan Group. I used to do volunteer park watch at Pt Defiance Park, where the zoo is located and was thrilled when the sculpture was installed. Ivan was visited by many people in the B&I Circus Store in Tacoma, WA (which is now the city of Lakewood). I saw Ivan in his glass enclosure and found it so sad. I just watched him silently, communicating my love to him. I was witness to his anger, sometimes, at children pounding on the glass. He was moved to Zoo Atlanta in 1994 and did okay there but never mated and seemed to prefer human company. They say he looked out of the zoo's glass enclosure at the people all the time. I wonder if he was looking for his human family and wondering where they had gone. Ivan was thoroughly habituated to humans, which is not how a gorilla should be. I hope that humans will leave wildlife in the wild; when the babies are stolen, they kill the mothers.

Ivan died at Zoo Atlanta in 2012 at the age of 50.

Belle's challenge below